


A Watson & A Nygaard

by Dragons_and_Merlins_Beard



Category: Fargo (2014), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Violence, M/M, Murder, Slight fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragons_and_Merlins_Beard/pseuds/Dragons_and_Merlins_Beard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock discovers John's twin in America when the doctor tells him they must visit him to console him over the loss of his wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Watson & A Nygaard

**Author's Note:**

> Some silly idea I had for a quick fic.

"How could I have not possibly have known this?" Sherlock exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air, "You have a  _twin brother!_ " The detective was flustered that he hadn't been able to deduce this small fact about John Watson.

"Yeah. I do." The doctor muttered, "Another brother too, but I lost track of them when all of us Watsons' got split up in foster care." 

"Harry is still close by though?" Sherlock questioned, glancing questioningly at his partner. 

"We didn't get split up. Lester and Chaz did though, from Harriet and I." John answered, "They got adopted into a family. The Nygaard's. Harriet and I, never did. So our last names never changed."

"Why haven't I ever heard about them? At all?" Sherlock asked, steepling his hands beneath his chin, quirking a brow.

"We don't really keep in touch and they both live in America." John murmured, grabbing his tea, taking a sip, settling back further against his chair.

Sherlock seemed angered by this - angry at himself for missing these facts. How could he miss something this large? "So he looks just like you?"

"Great deduction, but yeah. Identical twins." John sighed, brushing his tongue over his chapped lips.

"Something's happened to him, correct? That's why he's called? Asked if you could visit?" Sherlock inquired.

"Chaz, called actually, which is understandable due to the circumstances. Lester's wife died." John cleared his throat, "Was murdered, actually. So that's right up your alley." He added in slight dismay, "The case is open, I'm assuming, Chaz never said anything about who they found guilty, so." 

As John had expected Sherlock seemed already ten times more enthusiastic about the news when the word 'murder' was mentioned. His eyes had gone bright, his body propped on the edge of his seat, "Well we must go visit these siblings of yours, then." He insisted with a small grin. 

"It'll be a long ride on the plane, so if you go and complain the whole length of the trip, I will assault you." John warned, poking a finger in the air at the detective, "And no trying to solve it or whatever it is that you want to do. This is a trip based entirely on me trying to comfort my long lost twin."

"Long lost twin." Sherlock chuckled, ignoring John's other words, "We leave tonight." He announced, jumping up and going straight to his laptop, "I'll book a flight as soon as possible, pack your things." 

"Pack your things. Heavy. It's going to be bloody cold there." John reminded, but knew that Sherlock really wouldn't pay any heed to his instructions. 

* * *

"Remember, behave, be nice, be careful, this man's wife was just murdered and he is my brother." John said, a sort of routine lecture he went through before they went to crime scenes. 

Sherlock clapped a hand over John's shoulder, reaching forward to eagerly knock on the door, excited about both the general idea of an ongoing murder case and the fact that he was going to meet a John look-a-like. He pressed a kiss to the tip of John's ear, "I'll try to behave." He murmured. 

"Or you  _could_ behave." John pointed out, but in a fond tone, about to turn around to place a kiss on Sherlock's lips when the front door opened. It was about like looking in a mirror, really, a mirror imaged of a very disheveled version of himself. He cleared his throat, feeling a bit of shock at first, "Lester."

"Christ." Sherlock breathed from behind him. 

"Chaz called you didn't he?" Came John's voice but heavily laced with a northern American accent. 

"Yes, he did." John answered, wetting his lips, "I'm, uh, sorry for your loss, mate." 

Lester didn't seem very interested in his condolences, "Who is this, now?" He asked, gesturing towards Sherlock who was staring at him in bafflement. 

"Sherlock Holmes, I am John's significant other." The taller man announced without a moment of hesitation, causing Lester to admit a small ' _oh_ ', "Is that blood on your floor inside, is that where your wife was murdered?" 

" _Sherlock._ " John warned, elbowing him in the arm, "Sorry, he's quite strangely obsessed with any type of murder, deaths, suicides, whatever." He smiled shortly.

"Well naturally, I'm a detective, murder is my knack." Sherlock huffed, seeing Lester stiffen at his statement. He tilted his head back a bit, pulling John back behind him, "Well it was just a hunch, but I see as my deductions are correct. You murdered your wife." 

 John tried to nudge at Sherlock, "What the hell are you talking about, Sherlock?" He huffed in irritation, "That isn't even  _remotely_ funny." He scolded.

Lester was frozen at the doorway, eyes wide, face paling by the second. His whole figure was trembling with fear and guilt, "I-I don't know what you're talking about. I don't think it's best that you're here." His voice was unsteady.

"She didn't treat you well did she?" Sherlock continued, ignoring the iron grip around his wrist trying to drag him away and inflict pain, "You just.. snapped." He whispered.

"Sherlock enough!" John shouted finally, feeling a bit terrified himself of Sherlock's accusations, "Stop." He looked over at Lester, seeing how afraid he seemed, and it was obvious Sherlock had been right. "Let's.. let's just calm down." He said in a level voice, "Let's go inside, and let's talk this out, okay Lester? Let's just talk." He offered in a slow voice.

Sherlock glanced between the both of them, "Fair enough." He murmured, turning to Lester, "I'm sure we can work something out even though the right, and quite legal thing to do would be to arrest you."

Lester still seemed frozen to his spot, shuddering, eyes twitching. It was a long while before he finally backed into his house and held the door open for the two men, wordlessly. 

"It was in the basement, yes, where you killed your wife?" Sherlock inquired with a small knowing grin. 

John clenched his jaw, shaking his head, "I can't bloody believe you." And he wasn't sure who he was talking to in that situation. 


End file.
